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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26395615">gallows humour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nantes/pseuds/chrysostomos'>chrysostomos (nantes)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Post-Season/Series 02, Sibling Incest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:22:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26395615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nantes/pseuds/chrysostomos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five walks into a pane of glass, says “Ouch!” Diego inspects the damage.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy/Diego Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>234</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>gallows humour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <span class="small">me, after completing my last five/diego fic: that’s it, that’s the last one, no more five/diego once we post this-</span>
  <br/>
  <span class="small">my brain: but u haven’t written anything from five’s point of view</span>
  <br/>
  <span class="small">me, already opening a new word doc: [deepest sigh] yeah ur right</span>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><blockquote>
  <p><span class="small">“<em>I hear a voice calling, / calling out for me. / These shackles I've made in an attempt to be free. / Be it for reason, be it for love / -- I won't take the easy road.</em>”</span><br/>
<span class="small"><strong>SILVER LINING, FIRST AID KIT</strong></span></p>
  <p><span class="small">“<em>I’m not brave any more, darling. I’m all broken. They’ve broken me.</em>”</span><br/>
<span class="small"><strong>A FAREWELL TO ARMS, E. HEMINGWAY</strong></span></p>
</blockquote><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>“I’ve got it, Mom,” Diego says, stepping in front of Five. Five takes a second to catch up to what’s happening, his hand already in Diego’s when he gets there. With careful fingers Diego inspects the damage to Five’s knuckles – one spot makes Five flinch, jerking awkwardly, but Diego doesn’t let his hand slip away. “Looks nasty,” he says.<p>“Because it is,” Five retorts.</p><p>He’s doing his best to ignore Diego’s touch, focusing instead on the sting of the cut split over the bones. If he were to clench his fist now more blood would come out, adding to the dried stuff already staining his skin. But in Diego’s palm it’s difficult to move without. Without touching Diego more.</p><p>Five remains still.</p><p>The iodine hurts. It comes as no surprise but Five tightens his elbow to stop the way his hand trembles, attempting to hide it but Diego notices, the muscles of his arm a dead giveaway. His eye catches Five’s but it’s gone as quickly as it came. Five turns his head to watch how Grace is doing with Luther’s arm – the wound is deeper than Five’s but it sits on a fleshier part of Luther’s body so once it’s stitched closed it should remain so; Five’s can [and will] open up if he moves his fingers too much.</p><p>Diego dabs at the cut with a damp cotton ball. One of the fibres sinks in, causing Five to hiss. Sharp and clear, like the static snow of an old television set. Diego stops what he’s doing to observe him. Still, Five continues to look away.</p><p>“I’m almost done,” Diego says reassuringly. He wipes the last of the iodine-blood red-brown-rust mix from Five’s skin. Five tilts his hand in Diego’s palm to inspect it. He catches the tail end of Diego’s smile as he turns at the waist to retrieve the bandage. He instructs Five, “Tell me if it’s too tight.”</p><p>Of course it isn’t. It’s as well situated as if Five had done it himself. He doesn’t say ‘thanks’ but that only prompts Diego to keep looking at him. “What?” he snaps, tired of being stared at by Diego.</p><p>“Nothing,” is the reply. Five knows it’s not true.</p><p>“Say what you’re thinking of saying,” he sighs, finally taking his hand back from Diego. He clenches his hand into and back out of a fist as Diego watches. God. Will he ever-</p><p>Diego says, “Feel like I should be offering you a lollipop, you know? Like a kid after a visit to the paediatrician.”</p><p>Five thins his eyes. “Haha,” he sounds out meanly. </p><p>Diego grins, showing teeth. He prods at the dip in Five’s cheek where his dimple sits. Quick as a flash, Five swats him. Diego’s laugh is warm and rumpling in response. </p><p>“Fuck off.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Diego says, putting away the iodine and bandages, nodding to himself. “You’re fine.” And next to them Luther tells Grace ‘thank you’ as Five elegantly slides down from the bench.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>The bandages come off after two days when Five gets them sodden in the shower. He doesn’t bother applying more, the cut could use some fresh air, but when Diego sees, he offers, “Want to wrap it up again?”</p><p>Five declines. “If I wanted a bandage on it I could put it on myself.”</p><p>“Whatever suits,” Diego says.</p><p>Over the rim of his coffee cup Klaus watches them. Five glares and, caught, Klaus pretends to be busy with something on the fourth page of the paper, humming in faux-interest. Five teleports out – he doesn’t need his siblings wrapped up in his business, thank you very much.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“Need a ride?” comes Diego’s voice. Five looks over his shoulder to see Diego through the window of the car, leaning over the middle console to him. It’s been a week since he last saw him – no space mermaids on Neptune from Luther or <em>whatever</em> from Klaus to bring him to the academy – and the bruising around the cut has healed to yellow-green, no longer tender.</p><p>Five opens the car door and climbs in, readjusting the seat.</p><p>“Thought you hated chauffeuring us around,” he quips. Diego flicks on the turn light and pulls back out into the street proper.</p><p>“Nah,” he answers, lowering the radio, “I hate being <em>expected</em> to chauffeur you guys around. But if I feel like offering, I will.”</p><p>“Like now.”</p><p>“Like now.” It wasn’t a question but Five appreciates Diego confirming it. “Where to?” Diego asks.</p><p>Five tells him to drop him off after a couple of blocks in the car together. He’s a block off his destination but he doesn’t want Diego to know it. Before he’s half a step from the car, Diego calls after him, “Need a lift home later?”</p><p>Five shakes his head. He’s already planning the route home in his head – the long way, passed the park but not through it, and coffee from the place <em>opposite</em> Starbucks, maybe a cruller or a bear claw to go with it, and then homeward – so softly, he answers, “Thanks, I’m good.”</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>The blonde wig doesn’t suit her, the tone of it washing her out. But the new legs do. Delores looks beautiful in the yellow sundress someone has put her in but. She always looks beautiful. Five eyes the old woman over by the sale rack of coats, waiting for her to take another step from him before he greets Delores with a gentle, “Sorry it’s been so long.”</p><p>Tucking his hand into the other one, hiding it from Delores’ gaze, he says, “Yeah. Luther’s plan, went better than I thought it would but still, <em>this.</em>”</p><p>Delores admonishes him in her typical fashion until Five says, “We’re not in the apocalypse anymore though, easily accessible medical supplies are readily available. And Diego patched me up.” He feels himself flush at his words. </p><p>“I could have handled it myself but he took my hand while Grace tended to Luther.”</p><p>Mercifully, Luther’s injury distracts Delores’ focus and the conversation shifts to Grace picking needle like spines out of Luther’s flank and on from Five’s knuckles.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“Only blue <em>isn’t</em> a flavour,” Diego argues. Again. Klaus makes a distressed noise; that’s six so far. Five would appreciate if they would both kindly shut up, their inane conversation is really ruining his attempt to nap. He makes his own noise, aiming for disgruntled but lands somewhere closer to an angry cat. To him, Diego directs, “Alright, sorry.”</p><p>Five’s pillow is propped against Diego’s thigh. He did not put it there – in fact he was on the couch before Diego entered the room – Diego put it there when he chose to sit on the couch Five was curled on.</p><p>His fingers softly grace Five’s cheek with a light touch. Slowly it moves upwards, stroking through the hair next to his ear. “We’ll keep it down,” he says. Five deigns not to respond. Back towards Klaus, Diego says, “If you can explain your situation without claiming the colour blue is a flavour or disturbing the kitten, I will see if I can help you.”</p><p>Five ignores the reference to him. Relaxing his shoulder, he unwittingly gives Diego access to the back of his head. He falls asleep to the feeling of Diego twisting a short strand around his fingertip.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Five stumbles. Fuck. He looks down, around the pile of laundry in his arms, to find the culprit; the door jamb, and the toe of his loafer not quite over it. He almost stumbles again, backwards, when Diego appears in front of him. “You good?” he asks.</p><p>He steps back to let Five enter. The machine is already running, obviously full of Diego’s clothing.</p><p>“Was gonna try and get a wash done before bed,” Five says. “I wasn’t expecting there to be one going already.”</p><p>Diego has the decency to looks sheepish. “Yeah, sorry,” he states. He turns back to the socks he was sorting. “Place near mine is closed. S’got a nasty cockroach infestation so it’s currently under a tent while it’s getting fumigated.”</p><p>A laundromat full of cockroaches – it doesn’t sound like the best place to get your clothes clean but Five doesn’t bother commenting. He leans back against the wall and folds his arm. Diego keeps going, fingers working; Five lets his mind go blank as he watches, losing himself to Diego’s rhythm. He was not expecting a pair of ultramarine socks to go through Diego’s hands, so he comments:</p><p>“Did your wash get mixed up with someone else’s?”</p><p>Diego’s laugh affects the muscles of his back in a way Five hadn’t predicted. He watches them resettle before Diego answers. “You don’t know my whole wardrobe, man. Some things might surprise you.”</p><p>“Doubt it,” Five tries to say but a yawn takes over his words.</p><p>Diego regards him for a moment over his back then switches, looking at Five’s laundry. When he looks back at Five it’s somehow <em>louder.</em> He says, “I can do your wash for you, if you want.”</p><p>At first, Five considers declining. From the look of the clothes currently spinning in the machine, it doesn’t seem as though Diego handles a lot of button ups, but another yawn threatens to come out of Five’s lips. He catches it behind his teeth, keeping his lips closed and letting it fill his mouth. Then he answers, “If you don’t mind.”</p><p>“I don’t,” Diego replies, placing the last of his paired socks into the basket. “Lemme bring these out to the car and I’ll start on yours,” he says as he leaves.</p><p>Five heads for the stairs, taking it slowly. It’s not that late yet, not really, but there’s a crick in his neck and a twinge in the lower regions of his spine that Five knows will be placated with lying down and sleeping for at least nine hours. </p><p>At the first turn in the stairs he stops. Walking takes less mental effort to move but teleporting will be over quicker – it takes him longer than he would ever care to admit to prepare himself to jump. But he only makes it a couple of steps, his footing missed and he’s back down one of the few he has gained.</p><p>Diego is somehow behind him. “Whoa, steady,” he says, voice warm at Five’s back. His fingertips touch the dip of Five’s spine, keeping him stable, and Five feels the tendons in his own neck, his jaw clench in response.</p><p>“Why are you here?” he snaps, his irritation at Diego inchoate. “I thought you said you were going to the car?”</p><p>“I did. Then I realised your laundry wasn’t separated so I came to ask which you’d prefer me to start with, lights or darks.” They’re walking; Five leads and Diego follows. His hand has dropped from Five’s back at least. </p><p>“Darks,” he eventually answers. His bedroom door is in front of them now.</p><p>“Cool, will do.”</p><p>Reaching for the handle, Five turns to look at Diego. “Goodnight, then,” Diego smiles, and he reaches across the gap between them to tuck a stray slip of Five’s hair back behind his ear. Five slips into his room without another word.</p><p>Leaning his back against the door, Five exhales, silently counting the seconds. He breathes in again once he reaches ‘seven’. He stands there, thinking about the ghost of Diego’s warmth on his cheek for the longest time.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>It’s bright. And silent.</p><p>No crickets, no birds, no movement at all around him. Five takes a step towards the horizon in front of him, the mirage-mist of it in the distance. He starts walking. It’s so fucking quiet.</p><p>He looks down at his hands. They’re too young, no lines or wear on them, the gun callouses missing. But- no. They’re old, scarred – that one from broken glass, a window, a burn, from a metal can that got too hot. Five traces the pattern of it with his fingers then clenches his hands together. No callouses. A scar. He balls them into fists and keeps walking.</p><p>He knows this path.</p><p>It’s wrong, it’s all wrong. He shouldn’t be here. <em>He’s not meant to be here.</em></p><p>He keeps walking. Where’s Delores? He keeps walking, wondering how he got here. The sun hurts his eyes, his joints ache. It is all new and terrible and old and terrible, with the horrid smell of burning flesh, hot earth, singed metal all around him. The cloying, clinging scent Five will never get out of his clothes again. He looks down at his feet, boots scuffed, worn almost the whole way through- no. Black polished oxfords, the laces practically new. Wait.</p><p>Bowling shoes.</p><p>Bowling shoes? He was never here after- <em>how is he here?</em> How did he get back? Too many thoughts flicker in his head – Reginald, Vanya and her violin, Delores, Ben standing blue and whole, the Handler. The Handler? Did she, <em>could</em> she have done this? She threatened, once, but-</p><p>Five keeps walking.</p><p>Someone says his name. There’s someone else, here. Here? No. There was never someone else. Someone says his name.</p><p>“Five?”</p><p>It’s Diego’s voice. Five knows – he knows he know he <em>knows</em> -- Diego isn’t going to be there when he turns around. He can’t be. Diego was never here. But it’s Diego’s voice, repeating his name once more. It can’t be, Diego wasn’t here, Diego couldn’t be, <em>shouldn’t be</em> here. But Five has to turn around, he has to look, he has to <em>see Diego</em> and know it’s going to be alright. He was just home, he made it back, the apocalypse never happened-</p><p>White light fills everything, roaring in his ears. He jolts awake, sitting up and throwing himself into the present, awake and floundering at the bedside locker drawer handle with an open hand. His knuckles crack off the wood sharply and Five hisses. </p><p>He just needs a minute. A moment. A second.</p><p>The drawer opens, the sound of wood-on-wood familiar. He knows this space. The air is cool, not burning here, and he fills his lungs with it, holding his breath for a six count before releasing it slowly. His hand is in the drawer now, rummaging through the notepads, pens, a lighter and some paperclips. He keeps breathing, relearning the pattern of it. The slow rhythm of his body. <em>His body.</em> He’s fine, he’s home. Klaus and Luther are down the hallway. It’s fine.</p><p>His fingers find what they’re looking for. Smith and Wesson, model 39. 19mm bullets but the barrel is empty. Semi automatic.</p><p>Five clicks the chamber loose. </p><p>The metal pieces slip apart in his hands easily. Even in the dark of the room, Five’s fingers know the rhythm of taking apart the pistol, step one step two step three. Click click slide, then click slide slide click to put it back together again. He goes through the motions once more, just to make sure he’s got it.</p><p>A room over, someone moves in their bed, the springs of their mattress creaking under them. If he focused, Five could identify which brother it is. But he needs to sleep. He needs to fucking sleep but that isn’t going to happen here.</p><p>The decision is made in an instant. He teleports out.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Diego answers his door mid-pulling on a zip up hoodie. He squints at Five in the light of the hallway, pillow marks on his cheek. Five feels bad. <em>Almost.</em> In lieu of a greeting, he pushes into Diego’s place with, “Do you answer the door to everyone in that state of dress?”</p><p>Diego looks down at length of himself. His boxers are slipping off one hip, revealing the beginnings of his pelvic girdle. “At this hour of the night, yeah.”</p><p>Before Diego can ask what’s up, Five says, “The academy is- off. Can I bunk with you tonight?”</p><p>Diego doesn’t question it. Instead, he gestures at his bed, the covers pushed back where he just got out a moment ago. “Sure. Pick a side.”</p><p>“I can sleep on the couch if you’d prefer.”</p><p>He offers but he doesn’t mean it. Diego knows this too, dismissing the statement with a wave of his hand in the air and, “The middle slat is broken, it’ll kill your back.” He seems to struggle taking back off his hoodie. Five leaves him to it, slipping under the covers.</p><p>The spot Diego left behind is warm. Five settles into it.</p><p>If Diego is bothered by this, he doesn’t say. No, Diego is asleep again the second his head meets his pillow. Five lies there, envious and listening to his breathing, but can’t fall asleep himself. He rolls onto his side but all that does is create a cavern in the covers between himself and Diego, cool air flooding in and chilling his back. A grumble is the only warning Diego gives before he reaches for him.</p><p>“No,” Diego says, blearily. Five lets himself be pulled, back moving first against the sheets and then onto Diego’s chest. It’s redundant, the new position not comfortable at all but it has stopped the cold air coming anywhere near the pair of them. Trying to fix it only makes it worse, Five managing to move his head just the right amount to fill Diego’s mouth with his hair. “Stop,” Diego sighs, drawing out the vowel for an extra beat as he swats at Five’s head.</p><p>“You’re the one who placed me here,” Five counters.</p><p>“You took my spot, then you made it extra cold.”</p><p>Five stays quiet, shifting onto his side. It jams his shoulder into Diego’s flank but the angle is better for his neck now, head pillowed to Diego’s collarbone. Underneath his ear, he hears Diego’s heartbeat.</p><p>“Better?”</p><p>It rumbles right through Diego’s chest to Five’s ear.</p><p>“Or do you need me to pet your hair like a kitten again?”</p><p>With his middle finger, Five flicks Diego’s chest, but it only makes Diego laugh. “Go back to sleep, Diego.” Diego answers with a hum as his breathing evens out. On the mattress, Diego’s hand lays palm down, flat, and next to Five’s skin. Five focuses on the feeling of it, its presence next to him, until he falls asleep.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>There’s light barely touching the bed from the windows when Five wakes. It takes him a second, then another to place where he is – Diego’s. The memory comes back all in one go once he has that piece of information. Blinking, he looks around for his phone. It’s back in the academy, in his room; on top of the bedside locker, where he left it before teleporting here.</p><p>He registers Diego, out of the bed and already dressed, while he’s trying to blink himself more awake.</p><p>“Time is it?” he asks, some syllables missing but the question clear.</p><p>“Still early.” Diego pulls on his coat as Five watches. “Go back to sleep, I’ve got an errand to run.”</p><p>Five slaps his tongue in his mouth and rolls onto his back, pulling the covers around himself in a cocoon. “Want anything while I’m out?” is the question Diego poses from the door. Five shakes his head, mumbling something back; neither of them catch it. “Alright,” Diego agrees, and the door closes behind him with a soft click of the latch.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Five teleports into the doorway just in time to catch Klaus throwing his arms around Diego’s shoulders. “This was supposed to be <em>my victory</em> you ass,” he says before dramatically kissing Diego’s cheek. Five watches Diego’s shoulders shrug under Klaus’ grip.</p><p>“Yeah, well, I couldn’t listen to you complaining for another day about the lack of blue slushie stockists in the city,” he says.</p><p>On the table, leaking condensation onto the bare wood, is a large blue slushie.</p><p>Five only came for coffee. He tells himself there’s better stuff from the street vendor two blocks over and teleports to his room to get dressed before the other two can see him.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Tonight, Five arrives earlier than the last but Diego appears in the same outfit as before. He doesn’t bother saying anything, only nods and lifts his arm out of the way to let Five enter the room. Unlike the previous night, Five is fully dressed; Diego gets into bed while Five’s undressing and takes up his side of the bed. </p><p>Five slips in behind him, testing the waters by placing his cold feet right against Diego’s warm calves. Diego’s voice is sleep-slurred; “Get fucked.” Five just laughs. “I mean it. Jesus.” He rolls over, making the mattress rock, “how are they so cold?” Five slides them away.</p><p>Diego asks, “Did you walk here?”</p><p>It pulls another laugh out of Five.</p><p>“Of course I didn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Five lets himself fall into a pattern. It’s easy to. Or:</p><p>Diego <em>makes</em> it easy to. Diego’s place is small but Five fits himself into the space around him, finding spaces to put his things including a completely empty drawer in the bedside locker. And the cup he’s been using for coffee every time he’s been over before moved to the front of the cabinet.</p><p>There are even good towels when Five goes looking for some, soft, potentially new purchases, or at least bought and as yet unused. Diego tells him to take them when Five goes for a shower so Five does. Because it’s easy.</p><p>He gets in late this evening – visiting Delores went on beyond closing time and Five triggered the building alarm when he left, so he felt he should wait around and explain it to the cops who turned up, spinning an easy lie to save himself from the probable investigation into him if he just let them watch what happened on the security footage – so Diego is already in bed, asleep. Hogging the covers.</p><p>Five knows how to fight them off him by now.</p><p>He’s quiet about getting undressed and climbing into the bed. Diego’s arm is on Five’s side but Five’s attempt to nudge it out of the way with his knee only results in Diego’s fingers locking around Five’s knee and pulling Five’s leg as he rolls over. Fuck.</p><p>Five puts his hands out to stop himself falling onto Diego’s sleeping form beneath him. But now he’s awkwardly hovering above him, his exhale whisping through Diego’s lashes on the top of his cheekbones. Below him, Diego is asleep, beautifully relaxed on the pillow. Five whispers, “Diego?”</p><p>Diego hums.</p><p>He wiggles his thigh, hoping the quick back and forth will get Diego to release him but it only gets worse when Five tries again to moves his knee. Diego moves too. Shifts. He resituates himself, including Five’s leg, so Five has to move himself to once again prevent himself toppling into Diego and disturbing him. Instead of extracting his leg from Diego’s hold, now he’s half on top of him, leaning into Diego, thighs pressing close. It feels-</p><p>Five lowers his head, aiming for Diego’s ear.</p><p>It just happens to be at the same time Diego tilts his head on his neck, causing five’s lips to skim his cheek.</p><p>He holds his breath. One beat, then two. He could attempt Diego’s name again but how would be explain this? How could he justify the way he’s all but spread over Diego, straddling one of his legs.</p><p>His inhale attracts Diego’s attention, even in sleep, and Five pulls back. But it’s wrong, it’s all wrong, his angles all off. His mouth collides with Diego’s and for the shortest of seconds Five lets himself close his eyes, kissing Diego underneath him.</p><p>Diego’s hand releases his knee.</p><p>He breaks away in an instant.</p><p>In a second, he’s on his side and facing away from Diego. All of the covers are wrapped around him. Diego stirs next to him. “Five?” he asks, trying to tug at the corner of the covers. Five cocoons himself in more, feigning sleep.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Five waits.</p><p>He waits and waits and waits and waits and waits for Diego to mention it, for the pit of his stomach to drop out and Diego to say ‘so about last night’. But it doesn’t come. Five waits until it becomes clear it’s not going to come. And then waits some more.</p><p>Diego never says a word.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not trying to pry,” Diego says. Which can mean only one thing; he’s about to pry. Five knows there’s a good chance said prying is going to irritate him but he’s too slow on the uptake to stop Diego asking, “But you’ve been here for a while and- what is it, exactly, about the academy for you at the moment?”</p><p>Five opens his mouth.</p><p>But Diego just has to add, “Not that you’ve gotta tell me. But the boiler is an asshole in here and I know you don’t enjoy the sounds of the gym first thing in the morning. Or the coffee, for that matter.”</p><p>Five sighs.</p><p>With his back to Five, Diego prods at the cooking pasta with a wooden spoon. “And it’s not that you can’t stay here, but wouldn’t Allison’s or even Vanya’s be better?”</p><p>The couch creaks as Five gets up from it. “<em>Diego.</em>” Diego looks at him, mouth open as if about to speak again but Five doesn’t wish to hear it. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, do I have time?” Diego nods. “Don’t burn the pasta,” Five says.</p><p>When he comes back, shirtless and ruffling the towel through his hair, Diego has dinner out on the table. They don’t pick up the conversation where they left off.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“Are you coming over later?” Diego asks. They’re getting coffee, well- Five is getting coffee and Diego is paying for it which, yes, baffles Five but he doesn’t want to draw attention to it. The barista hands Five the cup, a large red sharpie ‘5’ on the side of it, while Diego waits for an answer. It’s the first time he’s ever asked.</p><p>Five shrugs, taking his first sip.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Five stops sleeping over at Diego’s.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Over the next week, Five doesn’t see Diego at all. Which somewhat ruins Five’s plans to avoid him – Diego isn’t around and Five doesn’t go near his place, so any attempt at holding the upper hand in the situation is thwarted. </p><p>Diego can’t know Five is avoiding him if Diego hasn’t put himself in a position for Five to avoid.</p><p>Except –</p><p><em>Diego hasn’t been around.</em> Five would almost consider the idea that Diego is avoiding him in return but that would imply Diego <em>thinks</em> he has done something worth avoiding Five for yet no matter how Five spins it, triangulating every avenue of their interactions over the last three weeks, he can’t make it work correctly; it doesn’t balance out.</p><p>He <em>isn’t</em> muddling over their last conversation just one last time when he hears Diego’s laugh, then Klaus’, coming from down the hallway. </p><p>So. He is around, and has seen Klaus. At least today. It’s not definitive proof but it does throw one in the pile for ‘Diego is avoiding him too’.</p><p>Five goes to his door to see what the other two are doing. Five steps out in time to catch Diego’s, “Call me next time, alright?” as Klaus laughs again, but Five has missed what’s so funny. Diego turns his head and sees him standing there. “Five, hi.” He sounds surprised to see him.</p><p>Five throws him a salute.</p><p>“Klaus, I’ve gotta-”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, go on, man, I’ll see you later,” Klaus waves off, slipping off towards the bathroom.</p><p>Diego jogs the few steps to Five. “Hey,” he greets, again. Five leans his shoulder on the wall. “Can we talk?” Diego asks.</p><p>“We are talking.”</p><p>Gesturing at the hallway, Diego says, “Not out here.”</p><p>Five steps back to let Diego enter. Their hips bump on the way, Five not as out of the way as he thought. Diego stops. He seems nervous, his energy off and offsetting the whole room. His shoulders are wrong, spine, even arms; Five wants to fix him but it’s not the place. And he <em>is</em> supposed to be avoiding him; so much for that idea. He keeps his hands to himself, pocketing them, and waits for Diego to start.</p><p>“I’m not entirely sure what I’ve done but I want to apologise.”</p><p>Five chuckles. “Great way to start an apology but go on.” He’s intrigued where this is going to go.</p><p>“I had hoped you might not remember, but. Fuck.” Diego twists, turning on his heel away from Five. Five steps into the space he left, following him. “That wasn’t the right thing to say.”</p><p>Diego moves to come back, jerking in surprise when he realises Five is closer than before. “Alright?”</p><p>“Fine. Just waiting for you to get to this apology, actually.”</p><p>Diego steadies himself in place, looking Five in the eyes as he says, “I’m sorry about the other night. When I kissed you.”</p><p>Five’s fist tightens so harshly his knuckles crack loudly in the quiet room. Trust Diego to give Five an out when he wasn’t looking for one. He should let this go, it shouldn’t go this way at all but Five can’t believe this. He can’t believe Diego thinks <em>that</em> could even possibly be the reason he’s stopped coming over. He goes for it, saying, “That’s not why I’m mad.”</p><p>Diego’s face scrunches in confusion. “It’s not?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Then why-” Diego’s hand flicks back and forth between them in the air in a gesture Five supposes he’s meant to understand. He catches Diego’s wrist, stopping him.</p><p>“Because I needed a break from people babying me.”</p><p>“Babying you?” Diego’s pitch rises. Five throws his arm back towards his chest and steps away. Christ. Not only has Diego apologised for completely the wrong thing, in all his worrying about it – Diego seems to have been avoiding Five just as much as Five was avoiding him, that much is now obvious – he totally missed the real reason Five is upset at all.</p><p>“Yes, Diego,” he says, clipped, careful, “Babying me. The way you always seem to be there, hovering around like I’m a wilting flower who requires you to keep me upright. In case you missed it, I spent quite a large amount of time alone, learning to take care of myself.” He pauses momentarily to gauge Diego’s reaction, taking a breath. “So, yes, I shockingly don’t require someone babying me-”</p><p>“Babying you?” Diego repeats, snappish, clearly wounded by Five’s words. “Jesus fucking <em>Christ,</em> of course you think-” He halts. When he picks up again, his voice is lower, tone calmer. Five hates it – at least when Diego was upset, angrier, as brief as it was, Five knew what to do in response. When he says, “You were alone for forty five years. I know, we <em>all</em> know you don’t need any of us looking out for you,” Five doesn’t know how to react to it. Diego keeps going, eyes staring at a spot on the floor so he misses the look upon Five’s face. “I don’t- I don’t know how to approach it with you. Sometimes I wanna ask ‘are you ok?’ or ‘do you need anything?’ but I just know that’s going to make glare at me or. Or teleport out of the room. So I thought if I just did it, without acknowledging it, that maybe you’d accept it-”</p><p>There.</p><p>There’s Five’s out. This is how Five can finish this. Because he needs to. Diego is the one speaking, laying it all out on the table, but it’s Five who feels exposed – he needs to close it off before Diego prods too far.</p><p>He says, “I’m glad you made that decision for both of us.”</p><p>Finally, Diego looks at him. Five hates the expression on his face; hurt, <em>pitying.</em> Then he says Five’s name. He says, “Five, c’mon.”</p><p>Five teleports away only because Diego said it earlier.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“It’s infuriating,” he tells Delores. </p><p>A rattle from the sale rail – no longer coats – suggests he may have told <em>more than</em> just Delores but that’s their problem. They shouldn’t be listening to a private conversation. “He just. He thinks he can waltz in whenever he feels like and <em>take care of me.</em> When no one asked him to. I definitely didn’t.”</p><p>Delores eyes him, unblinking. Five can only hold her gaze for so long before he has to turn away, weighed down underneath her knowing look.</p><p>“The worst part is, he does this with everyone.” A laugh finds its way out of Five’s mouth. “He even woke up one morning, at the crack of dawn, to drive out of his way to get Klaus a blue slushie cos Klaus kept whining about nowhere having them. For three days.”</p><p>Five casts his eyes back to Delores’ face. The look hasn’t changed. Fuck.</p><p>“He, just,” his shoulders drop. “He has to take care of everything. Of everyone. His moronic hero complex is so engrained in him from Dad he can’t stop for one second and-” Five stops. He glares at Delores; why would she say that? “I’m not <em>jealous.</em>”</p><p>Behind him, a mother leads their child away from him. Five lowers his tone to a hissed whisper to say, “I’m not. Klaus got a blue slushie, big deal. <em>I</em> asked could I stay at his for a while – no, it’s fine. The academy was difficult to sleep in – and he said yes.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>Jesus, Delores really isn’t giving him an inch today. Five closes his eyes, taking some time for himself to process. Delores, thankfully, allows him this, doesn’t take the opportunity to get another word in. “Diego said yes because I asked.”</p><p>From her vantage point above him, Delores looks down at Five with the most knowing of looks. Five hates that she’s right.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t seen him,” Vanya says to Diego. Five really needs to stop happening upon Diego interacting with their siblings. “But I haven’t been here all day, maybe he’s around. Have you tried Klaus?”</p><p>Five hears the sighing tone in Diego’s voice as he says, “Klaus hasn’t seen him either.”</p><p>Five teleports down to the kitchen to wait for Diego to find him.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“Five, hi,” Diego says, standing in the archway of the door. Five lowers his coffee cup to give him a smile. “I was just looking for you.”</p><p>“Speak of the devil,” Five notes. It doesn’t earn him a smile back.</p><p>Diego stays in the doorway. He says, “I wanna apologise for earlier.” He clucks a chuckle but it’s not meant for Five. “Even though that didn’t go so well for me last time. But I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel shitty. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself.”</p><p>“Don’t,” Five says. But, no. That’s not the way he meant to go with this. He restarts, “It’s what you do. And you’re good at it.” Diego frowns, equal parts confused and angry; Five realises his error. Shit. “That’s not what I meant. What I should have said is,” and he points at Diego, “you’re good at looking out for us. It’s a positive quality, I’ve seen you do it with everyone.” A pause. Diego remains in the doorway, neither in nor out of the room. Five drops his hand but holds Diego’s eye. “I’m sorry that I implied that you doing that wrong or that you ever meant to hurt me with it.”</p><p>Diego chews his bottom lip into his mouth.</p><p>Five says, “I should have told you my discomfort in the situation in the first place, and in a calmer way than our last conversation. I’m not used to people being there and then, when they briefly were, they weren’t exactly- <em>good.</em>”</p><p>A smile clips the corner of Diego’s mouth. It’s something. He replies, “I’ll be careful about it.” And that’s it. <em>Careful.</em> That’s Diego – careful and caring. Five’s just embarrassed now that he read the situation as badly as he did. “Are we going to be ok?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>Worry flickers across Diego’s features. God, Five wishes he’d step into the room properly; he steps towards Diego instead. “Because I might ruin everything with what I’m about to apologise for.” Diego forms an ‘o’ with his mouth. “I’m sorry I let you take the fall for what happened the other night – I kissed you, but when you apologised, you took the narrative blame away from me. Only you didn’t kiss me.”</p><p>“I didn’t?”</p><p>Five shakes his head.</p><p>“Oh. You kissed me?”</p><p>Five rolls his eyes. He’s about to snap a response because, for goodness’ sake Diego, <em>yes</em> he kissed him, but Diego says, “Then, if you’re apologising for starting it, I should apologise for kissing back. Cos I definitely did that.”</p><p>Five has no response.</p><p>“We should probably talk about that,” Diego admits.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“For the record,” Five manages to say, escaping the lure of Diego’s mouth. He moves his lips to Five’s throat, scrapping his teeth lightly under Five’s ear so Five’s voice wobbles around, “I would like you to know I do like knowing I can ask you for things.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Diego breathes it into his skin.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Diego’s fingers skim his thighs, fingertips digging in as Five gets the stroke just right, letting his eyes flicker closed. Diego’s big, fuck, but Five can handle it, rolling his hips and taking what he needs, Diego letting him. He traces his fingers up Five’s side, over his neck, and into his hair.</p><p>Five lets himself be pulled, head falling backwards at the demanding tug. He smiles and despite his closed eyes, he feels the heat of Diego’s gaze on him, aware he’s being watched as he rides Diego’s dick. “Fuck, kitten, you’re so good.”</p><p>Five preens under the praise.</p><p>Then gasps when Diego’s hips meet his, not letting him get away. Five’s mouth turns from a smile to an ‘o’ as Diego fucks back into him on every upstroke. Behind his lids his eyes cross, the angle <em>so fucking good</em> and Five’s glad Diego can’t see them.</p><p>He brings his hand down onto Diego’s chest for balance.</p><p>“Fuck, yes, like that,” he whines, outright <em>whines</em> but Five hasn’t the capacity right now to be embarrassed.</p><p>When he comes, it’s with Diego’s name on his lips and without a hand on his dick, Diego practically holding him in place and grinding into him. He topples forwards, elbow buckling as he shakes. Diego keeps fucking Five through it, chasing his own orgasm. And fuck, Jesus Christ, Five is so into the sound he makes when he does, grip in Five’s hair going tight enough to make Five whimper.</p><p>Afterwards, Five rests his cheek on Diego’s chest, waiting for his breathing to relax. Their chests are sticking together, Five’s come cooling – they should deal with it but Diego’s fingers are playing with his hair, and Five listens to the rumble of his words under the muscle as he says, “You’ve gotta say it next time – I do some stuff for you and you’re fine with it. Then other times, you freak out-”</p><p>“I do not <em>freak out.</em>” Five retorts, popping the ‘k’ and ‘t’.</p><p>Diego’s responding laugh is low, easy. “Whatever you say, kitten.”</p><p>Five rolls off him, suddenly too warm. Diego follows, tucking himself on his side next to him. There’s going to be come all over the sheets but they’ll get to that in a minute; Five has something important to say. He says, “I mean it.” Five meets his eyes, holding his look. “You hold a lot in. And that’s fine, I’m not looking for you to lay it all out for me. But if I do something you don’t like, or I’m,” Diego considers his words. “If I do something you don’t want me to, you have to tell me.”</p><p>Five drops his gaze. He feels Diego’s eyes on him. “I told you, I like asking you for things, knowing you’ll say ‘yes’; I meant it when I said you’re good at looking out for us. <em>Me,</em>” he corrects. “But, on occasion, it’s too much.”</p><p>“So then tell me.”</p><p>Five admits, “I was unsure how before. I couldn’t think of the words I wanted to say without getting angry.” Diego touches his arm, the pressure light, gentle. “It was difficult to phrase when it felt as though you were exploiting a weakness.”</p><p>“I don’t think you’re weak,” Diego says; “I know you’re not.”</p><p>Diego says, “I mean it. I know.”</p><p>Five tilts his head towards him and finds Diego closer than he was expecting. His mouth is right there. He lifts his head to close the distance and he feels Diego’s mouth move into a smile against his lip.</p><p>“Good,” he replies.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>“Since we’re being honest,” Diego starts, trailing a single finger down the sweat-warmed notches of Five’s spine, “when I was trying to think what I did to make you avoid me I did think that you were mad about the slushie I bought Klaus.” Five peers at him, watching his face until Diego looks up and catches his eye. Shit. He hides his face in the pillow but it’s clear he’s been caught. “So, I was right.”</p><p>Five’s ‘no’ goes directly into the pillowcase.</p><p>Diego cackles, earning him an attempted swat away from Five. He laughs again, ignoring Five, and leaning his whole palm into the meat of Five’s back, pressing into the muscle. Five keens, pushing back into it as Diego massages his skin.</p><p>He promises, “I promise I won’t buy Klaus any slushies from now on.”</p><p>Five tells him, “Fuck off,” but loses his note of irritation when he breaks off into a whine at Diego’s handiwork.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Five wakes alone in bed, to the sounds of the gym in full swing on the other side of the wall. He reaches towards Diego’s side but finds the mattress cold. </p><p>Rolling over, he pushes an arm out and blindly pats the bedside locker for his phone, hoping to learn the time of day. His wrist bumps the wood and his fingers- his fingers come in contact with something wet and icily cool. He lifts his head from the pillow to see, next to his hand, a blue slushie.</p><p>It looks disgusting.</p><p>Why Klaus would ever want one, Five cannot fathom, but there are many things about Klaus that Five has yet to work out and fully understand. He adds ‘consumption of unnaturally coloured icy drinks’ to the list – Five used to eat bugs, so he knows a thing or two about intaking awful things – and drops his head back to the pillow once more, hiding his smile in the cotton.</p><p>Fucking <em>Diego.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <span class="small">the <em>dune</em> (2020) trailer came out yesterday, i’ve watched it 47 times by now, and can’t stop picturing timmy shablagoo as older five so i’mma go dunk my head in a lake.<span class="small"></span></span>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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